Hymns

And can it be our voices need consoling,
well we only link our voices at footy,
guess he’d never been, corporate projection
while naive alveoli clutch each other;
there, a new tune circling, sacrifice your
skewed larynx to a set of organs preying,
howling at glass burned clear; where are the choir’s
eyes? noble chords gilding trudged axioms,
here among whoever we are, flapping still
with sweaty paper shields, dank numbers listing,
destitute lessons for those who would sing hymns.

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Ben Walter’s writing has been widely published, including in Meanjin, Griffith Review, Southerly, Island and The Lifted Brow. He has been runner up in the Peter Carey Short Story Award and Overland’s VU Short Story Prize. His debut novel manuscript won the people’s choice component of the 2017 Tasmanian Premier’s Literary Prizes.